


I Thought You Loved Me

by lavenderlotion



Series: Ficlets for: nearly 200 writing prompts [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comatose Peter Hale, Derek Hale Blames Himself, M/M, Post Hale Fire, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 09:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14849885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: Talking hurts. So does breathing. He inhaled enough smoke that a human would be dead, and his body is taking its time to heal. He thinks, maybe, it’s punishing him. Or he’s punishing himself. He never learned how to slow down his healing, but he thinks that’s what he’s doing now. It’s been three weeks.“You told me you loved me,” Derek says, voice a little louder but still no more than a whisper.It doesn’t matter. Peter can’t hear him. Or he can, but he can’t answer Derek. Because Peter is in a coma, and he’s burned. Derek can hardly stomach looking at Peter’s left side, with the way the skin has melted and blistered. Peter might never wake up—that’s what the doctors told them, he and Laura, all whose left.





	I Thought You Loved Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [syriala](https://archiveofourown.org/users/syriala/gifts).



The hospital room is silent. Aside from the machine that is monitoring Peter’s heart, which is beeping steadily—though that isn’t a noise Derek wants to hear. It’s loud, made louder with his enhanced hearing. Derek still isn’t all that great with control. Peter was teaching him before he moved away, and then his mom took over but his mom was never as good. He can’t control all of his senses when his emotions are running high, like they are now.

“I thought you loved me,” Derek whispers, any louder and his voice would have broken. 

Talking hurts. So does breathing. He inhaled enough smoke that a human would be dead, and his body is taking its time to heal. He thinks, maybe, it’s punishing him. Or he’s punishing himself. He never learned how to slow down his healing, but he thinks that’s what he’s doing now. It’s been three weeks.

“You told me you loved me,” Derek says, voice a little louder but still no more than a whisper.

It doesn’t matter. Peter can’t hear him. Or he can, but he can’t answer Derek. Because Peter is in a coma, and he’s burned. Derek can hardly stomach looking at Peter’s left side, with the way the skin has melted and blistered. Peter might never wake up—that’s what the doctors told them, he and Laura, all whose left. 

Derek doesn’t know what to do. He feels lost, empty, helpless. So helpless. He knows that it’s his fault, though. He knew Kate was too old for him, and even if he didn’t know that she was a hunter, he should have been smarter. Shouldn’t have been so stupid. So stupid. No wonder Peter hadn’t protested when Talia told him he needed to move.

Peter hadn’t fought for them, once Talia found out. He had just left, had taken Derek’s heart with him and left him all alone. 

It didn’t matter now. Derek could feel the empty void where his family used to sit in his chest, warm and golden and full of love. There is nothing now, nothing but Laura and Peter and so much pain. He’s not sure how long the bond with Laura will last, though, now that she’s moved. Derek couldn’t, wouldn’t, go with her. He wouldn’t leave Peter like this, not when it was Derek’s fault that Peter was stuck here.

Derek takes a deep breath, though all he can smell is fire and pain and burning. Peter used to smell like cinnamon and home and Derek, always like Derek, in the ways that Derek smelt like him. Now, Derek can’t smell any of that. He has tried scenting Peter, but the smell of loss is too thick in the room for it to make a difference.

He pushes down as much of the hurt as he can, and Derek stands. It’s late, and Derek needs to go. They got money from the fire, a lot of it, and Derek has a small apartment near the hospital. It was hard to find a place that would let him sign a lease, but his landlord is an old lady who knew his mother and Derek pays with cash. It has a bed, and that is more than Derek deserves. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter,” Derek tells him, throat still too heavy and chest too empty. “I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> here we go again  
> [my tumblr!](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/)


End file.
